


the beauty in death

by ghoulboys



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, M/M, Masochism, Mirage | Elliott Witt Needs a Hug, Revenant Being Revenant (Apex Legends), Sadism, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:48:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26475961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghoulboys/pseuds/ghoulboys
Summary: "Are you afraid of me, Elliott?"Mirage can't help the reply, a smile briefly forming on his lips, "that's a silly question.""Answer me."The grip on his jaw tightens as a reminder of who he's with, and Elliott grunts out a response, "Yes."
Relationships: Mirage | Elliott Witt/Revenant
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	the beauty in death

Elliott Witt had never known fear as vividly as he did the day his brothers had gone missing.

He remembered it well -- standing in the living room, right behind the couch, with the television hoisted on the wall across from him and his mother. She was sobbing, breathless, and Mirage had just stood there. He hadn't been sure what he was feeling at the moment, watching a news reporter speak about the loss of an entire division as if he personally knew the people involved. Missing in action, Mirage learned that day, was drastically different than killed in action.

And for whatever reason, seemed to bring much more heartbreak.

It was hope, he learned, that hurt the most. The idea that you must keep fighting, keep pushing forward, with the hope that they'll one day reappear. Perhaps being told that they were better off dead than simply missing would've hurt less, allowed them to move on with their lives. He could've forgotten his brothers existed and went on with his life.

His mother forgot before him, forgot about their disappearances, and began to ask questions.

When Mirage realized treatment was out of his reach, he turned to the Apex Games.

The Apex Games, of which he was a fan favourite. The gamemasters kept him alive regularly, pulling him out before certain death, and thankfully for him he hadn't encountered anyone who truly attempted to finish him off for good. But he heard the rumours and frequently saw a legend he knew would eventually cross his path.

The simulacrum that could never die, but enjoyed bringing death upon others.

Another thing that Mirage has learned in his thirty-something years of being alive, is that he's afraid of death. Part of him had hoped the Apex Games would fight off that fear and replace it with the acceptance of the inevitable, but even then, death presented itself as difficult to process. It also presented itself in the form of the simulacrum named Revenant.

"You know," he'd said, "some call you the grim reaper because of how many legends you've put down." In the corner of his eyes, Mirage can see the twitching hand of his duo partner. Her kunai lay inches away, bathed in her own blood, and he finds himself regretting taking his attention away from Revenant. His jaw is gripped suddenly, and his head is jerked forward to make eye contact with the simulacrum.

Elliott Witt is on his knees.

He'd assumed a good death for the game-makers would be one in which he begs, gets as much love and heartbreak from the fans, brings in some more viewers excited to see him fall. It could've been the most heartbreaking of them all, he decided, dramatic and loud, just as Elliott Witt himself often was. He was energetic and flamboyant, bringing as much attention to himself as he possibly could -- he wore flashy outfits, yellow of all colours, focused on making his hair curly and voluminous, threw finger guns at passerby's and winked at the ladies. He pretended to give a shit about himself in a way that others found annoying, full of himself, though self-deprecating at the end of the day. He'd look in the mirror, at the creases beginning to form fake smile lines on his face, at the eyebags no one seemed to notice, the impact of stress on a young man's body, and knew that it wouldn't last for long.

Revenant never liked to draw attention to himself, it seemed. He was stalkerish and rude, brief with interactions and never wanting the spotlight, as Elliott pretended to. He killed those who got in his way, both in and outside the games, and never felt a thing, even if it had been simple reporters doing their jobs or fans wanting questions. He never bothered the other legends outside the games, and reveled in the fear that undoubtedly poured from them with each sob and gusher of blood.

And even now, Elliott almost imagines the simulacrum with a cruel smile as he looks up at the killer, cold metallic nails from his fingers digging into his jaw, sharp enough to draw blood.

"An almost fitting name," Revenant says, watching Elliott. "Tell me, Elliott. Are you afraid of the idea of a Grim Reaper?"

The use of his first name, although common, always made him cringe. Whether it was inside the ring or outside, it was a reminder of who he truly was, who he'd always be -- Elliott Witt, an afraid little boy who simply wanted to help his mother. Whether Revenant knew how uncomfortable it was or not, he holds on tight, and they keep their eyes locked. Mirage can't help his reply, a smile briefly forming on his lips, "that's a silly question."

"Answer me."

The grip on his jaw tightens as a reminder of who he's with, and Elliott grunts out a response, "Yes."

"And why's that?" Revenant proceeds, with a brief tilt of his head.

"Because -- Because, I'm afraid of death," Elliott admits.

Revenant tilts his head forward, and Elliott almost sees a glint in his eyes. "Are you afraid of me, Elliott?"

"This is getting kind of personal, isn't it?" A stifled whimper leaves his mouth when Revenant jerks his head back, slamming Elliott's back to the ground. A foot suddenly comes down onto his chest and stays there, Revenant standing above the trickster, and staring down at him with the blank expression that he often held. It gets Elliott to groan, eyes closing briefly as he tries to adjust to the sudden change. "Don't -- don't damage the art -- art, artwork," he manages to sputter out.

Revenant scoffs, and his footing shifts, lifting up briefly before setting down on his neck.

"Elliott," He warns.

"Yes," Elliott finally says.

Revenant hums, pulling his foot off Elliott's neck with one swift movement, and suddenly, a wingman is in his right hand. "Good," he replies, and levels the barrel right between Elliott's eyes before pulling the trigger.

Elliott Witt wakes up with a gasp, lurching out, and has to be held down by nurses before they let him know the game-masters allowed for him to stay alive, even after he was dead in the ring.

"Oh," is all he'd said, before they left him alone in the room so he could regather his items and retreat back to his living quarters.

He's distracted by a figure appearing in the doorway of the hospital bedroom, tall and lanky, and it takes Elliott less than a moment to realize who it was. "Come to rub the victory in? Renee and I were pretty close, y'know," He began, while Revenant advanced into the room and to his bedside. Elliott sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, already beginning to play with his hair. "I can't even imagine what the viewers must've thought of that one, I mean, you played well but man, they must've thought I was done for--"

A hand on his shoulder gets him to stop speaking, and he looks up at Revenant, the simulacrum quiet for a brief moment after. "Don't think about dying on me yet, skinbag. I'm not through with you."

"You never seem to be," Elliott replies, hand reaching up to rest over top of Revenant's, before lacing their fingers, "think we should save the dramatics for behind the doors?"

"It's almost funner with an audience," Revenant stated, watching as Elliott raised his hand to his lips, and kissed the sharp nails that had earlier been digging into his jaw. "Almost."

"I'll keep that in mind," Elliott replies, and doesn't hold on when Revenant pulls away and leaves the room.

**Author's Note:**

> not proof read, began as something entirely different, probably will delete laterrrrr


End file.
